


Let Me Be Your Man

by reliablemachine



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18564934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliablemachine/pseuds/reliablemachine
Summary: Forthisprompt on the kink meme: "Eames holding Arthur's hand while the team is having a meeting."





	Let Me Be Your Man

Arthur’s fed up with everything -- work, the subject’s ridiculously disorganized paperwork, life, everything. He has a migraine the size of Kentucky threatening to turn his brain into little pieces of mush up against the inside of his skull, and it feels like Cobb has been talking for _ages_.

“-- why you need to be especially on the ball tomorrow, Fincher, this is serious and despite popular opinion, the mark isn’t an idiot,” Cobb is saying.

Arthur can barely even hear words anymore, much less understand what’s being said. He’s dangerously close to slumping right out of his chair and crumpling on the cold concrete -- perhaps he could bash his head on it a few times and end his suffering. He took two Asprin this morning at the first signs of the headache, but they’ve just about worn off by now, and Cobb will flay him if he sneaks out during this meeting. “Meeting”. Cobb repeating himself over and over. Whatever.

Arthur’s pretty sure he’s going to vomit on the table at any second. He’s rolled and unrolled his sleeves about seven times in the past half hour because his body can’t decide on a temperature -- one minute he’s sweating and the next it’s like the middle of winter. By now, his face is inches away from the file folder on the table in front of him and he’s torn between thunking his head down on the desk and gripping his own tie until he passes out.

Then there’s a hand snaking across his thigh and Arthur painfully moves his eyes to glare down at Eames’s arm under the table. He so does not have the patience for this right now... He’s about to slap Eames’s wrist when it makes an unexpected detour and dips between Arthur’s knees to grab his hand that’s dangling there.

Arthur stares at Eames’s fingers as they turn his hand around then lace between his own. Eames’s hand is firm and warm and Arthur can practically feel his stress leaking out of his body where Eames’s skin touches his. Eames (wisely) doesn’t try anything else -- just sits quietly beside Arthur, resting their entwined hands on Arthur’s thigh. He answers casually whenever Cobb calls on him, but when Arthur chances a glance, Eames is peering at him with a secret, knowing, and almost fond look in his eye.

Arthur smiles softly and feels much better.


End file.
